


Instant

by pencilguin



Series: The Other Mes Live With What They've Got [7]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Late 20th Century, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: A quiet morning to themselves, where Hugh is woken by Paul taking a picture of him.
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Series: The Other Mes Live With What They've Got [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1332434
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Instant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aphelyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphelyon/gifts).



> Soft photography gays for the lovely [@Aphelyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphelyon). 
> 
> (This is vaguely set somewhere in the 1980s/90s and of course they're both involved in political activism, but that isn't the main focus here. Just lots of fluff and a bit of silliness.) 
> 
> Not beta'd, sorry for any mistakes.

Hugh slowly wakes to warm rays of morning sunlight tickling his nose, and movement in bed next to him; the soft rustling of sheets and weight shifting off the mattress. Barely half-conscious he registers it as something displeasing, because something — no, someone — is moving away that he would prefer to stay right here, with him. The residue warmth that must have been pressed against his body until moments ago is starting to fade and he grumbles and shifts, but doesn’t quite yet want to open his eyes.

That is, until the quiet clattering beyond the bed has come up and died down again, the mattress bounces a little somewhere around his legs, and he hears a mechanical sound coming from some place above him.

He squints up and his eyes focus on Paul’s face, appearing from behind his instant camera with a wide grin.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!”

Hugh lets his eyes fall shut again and sighs while he hears Paul pull the photo out of the camera and shake it with a flapping sound. “Good morning yourself,” he mumbles — still a little grumpy, admittedly, because _dammit_ , Paul _did_ just wake him up only to take a presumably very unflattering photo of him in bed.

“Aww, grouch.”

“You woke me.”

Finally he opens his eyes again, because he remembers the sight that must be in front of him, and it does not disappoint. Paul’s knees are on either side of Hugh’s body, camera in one hand, photograph in the other, and with the sun shining in at an angle half from behind, half from beside him, his — gloriously still naked — body appears to be glowing, the light catches in his perfectly messed up hair almost like a golden halo, and with summer slowly approaching with baby steps, the delicate freckles reaching from his shoulders over his torso and down to his thighs have started to become more visible. Appearing simultaneously like an ethereal being from out of this world and blending in perfectly with his crammed single bedroom apartment, where every surface is occupied by a chaotic mess and the walls are covered with photos he’s taken throughout his life, he now goes on to inspect the picture in his hand, occasionally glancing down at Hugh as if to compare image and reality. Hugh wishes he could capture that carefree, boyish smile and frame it.

“I’m sorry,” Paul eventually responds. “Can I make it up to you somehow?”

Hugh grins, gesturing at him. “You already have.”

“Good kind of waking up, then?”

“The best.”

He leans down to Hugh, dropping the photo and camera on the bed so he can support himself with his hands, and kisses him deeply. Even after they break apart he lingers, and Hugh hums contentedly against his lips.

“So good.” He reaches to his left where Paul put down the photo. “Let me see that.”

Paul curls up next to him so they can both inspect it.

“No matter what I try, I just can’t capture your perfection. But this one is the closest so far.”

“Mhmm. Looks a lot less unflattering than I feared.”

“Aw, come on. As if you ever could.”

“Oh, there are pictures, trust me.”

Paul snuggles closer. “Can I see them someday?”

Hugh hesitates. “They’re at my parents’.”

“Oh.”

He feels him shift uncomfortably, and brings his hand up into Paul’s hair. “It’s okay. Maybe one day they’ll talk to me again… and I can get some of my old stuff. I’d love to show them to you, look through them together.” He turns his neck to the side to kiss Paul’s forehead, and is pleased to see the smile return to his pink lips.

Paul picks the photo from his hand and looks at it again. “I wanna keep this. Not on the wall; I’ll carry you in my pocket at all times.” He turns his head to look at Hugh again, and the smile becomes a grin. “Though I also wouldn’t mind a full-body one, for the days when we can’t see each other.”

Hugh raises an eyebrow, and when he notices Paul reaching over him he reacts quickly, picking up the camera and scrambling backwards, holding it out of Paul’s reach. “Forget it, Paul Stamets. You’re not gonna wander around the city with a nude photo of me in your pocket. What if the police stops and frisks you again?”

Paul pouts at him and keeps trying to grapple for his camera, although at this point Hugh isn’t sure if it’s not just an excuse for groping him all over.

A grin spreads on Hugh’s face as an idea forms in his mind. “I wanna take a photo of you.”

“No, you don’t — give me that —” Paul reaches for it again, almost shoving Hugh off the bed in the process, and Hugh haphazardly releases the shutter, snapping a picture of Paul while he’s trying to grab the camera.

With an affronted yelp from Paul and laughter from Hugh they both fall down on the bed, entangled, Paul in possession of the camera with Hugh lying underneath him, who’s still got the picture in hand that he grabbed just in time.

“You’re impossible, Hugh.” The amusement in his voice is too obvious to hide it, even though he’s still trying to glare, clinging to the instant camera protectively. Maybe this is his idea of revenge, Hugh isn’t sure, but Paul holds it up and takes another picture of him.

Hugh hums, shamelessly self-satisfied, while he shakes the photo until the picture has developed. “Look at you. Dork.”

“Let me see.” Paul leans in close after Hugh sits up, flapping his own photo absent-mindedly. His brows furrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Hugh kisses his cheek. “Yes, it was.” He reaches for Paul’s hand that’s holding the other photo of him. “What about that one?”

It’s him, lying flat on his back, head thrown back laughing and hanging slightly over the edge of the bed. The angle is tilted and his bare upper torso is cut off on the left, while the back of the room fades into a dim blur behind him. Involuntarily, he smiles.

“I’m gonna keep this, too,” Paul decides cheerfully, picking up the first picture as well and carefully placing them on his nightstand. “What?” he asks when he notices Hugh simply watching him with silent adoration.

“Let me take another one of you.” Pale blond brows twitch together again. “C’mon Paul, please.”

Finally he sighs. _Drama queen_ , Hugh thinks fondly.

“Alright, fine. Here.”

Hugh takes the camera from him, trying to remember what Paul told him about lighting, contrast, composition. Holds it to his face and looks through the viewfinder. Tries to let his instincts find the right frame.

“What?” Paul asks.

“What, ‘what’?”

“You’re smiling.”

Hugh lowers the camera. “Just appreciating my subject.”

Paul chuckles. “Alright. What do you want your ‘subject’ to do?”

“Just… be yourself, I guess? That’s my favorite version of you.”

Paul scoffs, but he sits back and relaxes. Spots of sunlight dance on his shoulder and in his hair. Hugh brings the camera up to his face again.

“Gorgeous.”

The comment brings a surprised, shy smile to Paul’s face. The shutter clicks.

“Okay, now we’re done.” Hugh lowers the camera and, after taking out the photo, hands it back to Paul.

He waits for the picture to develop in his hand, smiling automatically as it unfolds.

“Not yet.”

Confused, he looks up. “What’s that, love?”

Paul scoots around and pulls him close. “I want to take a self-portrait of us together.”

“Alright.” Hugh decides to indulge him. “But after that we should get out of bed and eat breakfast.”

Paul makes them both lean back against the headboard and holds up the camera with both arms outstretched, one snaking around Hugh to get the right angle so they both fit in. Hugh has his right arm wrapped around Paul’s shoulders while his left hand rests on Paul’s chest. The shutter clicks at the same moment that Paul turns his head and kisses Hugh on the cheek, making him laugh in surprise.

“ _Now_ we’re done,” Paul says cheerfully. He pulls out the picture and puts his camera down, shakes the photo and then holds it up for both of them to look at. Hugh glances at Paul’s face and sees his expression turn soft, a sight that warms him to the core. He takes a look at the picture, too. “I love this.”

“Yes,” Hugh agrees. “I love us.” He kisses Paul’s temple. “I love you.”

Paul tilts his head to lean against him, smiling. Finally he sighs. “Alright, time to get up. You’ve got a protest to organize today, and I’ve got a protest to document and report on today.”

“Right.” Hugh lets his head fall back and looks out the window.

Paul watches him closely. “Everything okay?”

Hugh shakes his head. “Nothing. Just — let me stay here in this moment for a second longer.” He closes his eyes, his hand finds Paul’s and he intertwines their fingers. “In this moment where we’re perfect, and nothing from outside can reach us, except the sunlight.”

He hears Paul move beside him, and when he slowly opens his eyes again, Hugh sees his face right in front of him, smiling. “Okay. One more second.” Paul kisses him again; soft, warm lips caressing his, familiar and comforting and _home_ , no matter where they are. “I love you, Hugh.”

Hugh’s hand brushes through his blond hair again before coming to rest on his cheek, causing Paul to reflexively lean into the touch. He allows himself one more deep, relaxed breath, and then smiles.

“Okay, second’s up. The rest of today is for our community.”


End file.
